DIRTY SECRET

by Mira Lyn Kelly

  “Still too small to do anything but use that mini hockey stick you gave her to gum on.” Thumbing through my phone, I find the most recent picture from last week for him.

  He grins but isn’t distracted for long. “I get why someone like Vassar might have appealed to you in high school. He didn’t intimidate easy and he was outside my circle of influence. But I was out of the picture by college and it’s not like I’m warning guys off you these days either. So why him?”

  There’s no holding back my laugh. “Out of the picture? Greg, you’re an international sports celebrity. There is no out of the picture. In college, the guys I dated weren’t interested in talking to me about my game. They wanted to talk to me about your game. They wanted to hear about you. And as for now… You’re not warning guys off me, huh?”

  He gives me a sheepish shrug but has the sense not to open his mouth.

  “Let’s forget about Vaughn for a moment. And for the sake of argument, say if Rux, your best friend and all-around good guy, decided he wanted to date me… you’d be okay with it?”

  The answer is no. And knowing Greg, probably more like fuck, no. But being the stubborn type that he is, my brother won’t give. Eyes locked with mine, jaw clenching and unclenching, he tries to make himself tell me something other than the truth we both know. In the end, he shovels four donut holes in his mouth at once.

  “Don’t worry, bro. I’d never date Rux, and he’d probably puke down his chest just thinking about dating me. The surrogate sibling thing is strong with him.”

  Visibly relieved, Greg washes down his donuts with his coffee.

  “So that’s what this boils down to with Vassar? You like him because he’s not afraid to go head-to-head with me, and you think he isn’t dating you just to get to me.”

  “I know he isn’t dating me to get to you, because he could have done it a hundred times already. He could have thrown me in your face at every turn. Taunted you with the dirty details from that night in Vancouver—”

  Greg’s out of his chair so fast it falls over, his fingers in his ears as he sings, “La la la la…” at top volume.

  Oops.

  Slapping a hand over his mouth, I meet his panicked eyes. “Sorry. But my point is this, he didn’t do any of that. And if you really want to know why him? It’s because I like him, Greg. A lot. I always have.”

  The donut holes are gone and Greg’s coffee is empty. Clearing them from the table, he dumps them in the trash and props a hip against the counter. “So, what? Are you guys serious?”

  There are so many ways I could answer him. Because the way I feel about Vaughn… yeah, it’s serious. More serious than it should be. But— “He’s leaving at the end of this season.”

  “Oregon.” Everyone knows the plan.

  I smile, because that’s what I need to do.

  “But even if he wasn’t, I’m not interested in making the NHL WAG list. I’m not trying to guilt you or make you feel bad, but I’m through giving up my life because it’s not as important as someone else’s hockey career. Vaughn knows how I feel. He gets it. So with this thing between us… serious isn’t an option.”

  Greg looks like he just smelled rotten milk. “Let me get this straight… you’re saying you’ve got rules about guys like him.” He gulps. “You don’t date players?”

  “Normally, no.” Whatever that half-panicked, half-stricken look is, I don’t get it. “Um, you okay?”

  He’s big and strong, sure, but the guy is a softy at heart, and I feel kind of crummy about what he’s been through in the last twelve hours. Whether my relationships are any of his business or not, this is my brother.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It just sounds familiar is all. Nat, I get why you wouldn’t be interested in the kind of life that comes with dating a pro. I know what it was like for you growing up. You didn’t have a choice in how things went down then, and it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to put yourself in that position again. You deserve to come first.”

  He joins me at the table, nothing but sincerity and concern in his eyes. “But here’s the thing—and believe it or not, what I’m about to say has nothing to do with the guy you’re dating being Vaughn Vassar—you are playing with fire.”

  I sit back. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if you want a life that isn’t dictated by hockey, then don’t date a hockey player. Not for one week and definitely not for the better part of a year. Don’t tell yourself it isn’t serious when it’s serious enough that you’ve been lying to everyone you know to keep it secret. When it’s serious enough that even with the kind of consequences Vassar has on the line, you still couldn’t stay away from each other.”

  “Consequences that aren’t going to be an issue because you’re not going to say anything.” I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “Don’t test me on this. You know you don’t want that Easy-Bake Oven story getting out.”

  He jerks back like I’ve slapped him. “Jesus, Nat, I’m trying to help you here! And case in point, serious enough that you’re ready to blackmail me with twenty-year-old dirt to protect your boyfriend!”

  “It’s his career!” I shout back, guilt making me defensive. But I know he’s right. Mumbling, I add, “It’s that important.”

  We stare each other down for a minute before Greg lets out a growl and gives me a crabby look. “I already told you I wouldn’t say anything. And I won’t. But listen, okay? Guys like Vaughn, hell, guys like me—we like to win. The girl, the game, the fight. All of it. We thrive on challenges and get off on overcoming odds. And when we find something that matters to us, really matters, we are relentless. And if you don’t believe me, ask Julia how serious she meant to get about me. Ask her about the rules I broke and the plans she changed—because guess what, she didn’t date players either. But ask her how willing I was to let her go and then look at the ring on her finger and ask yourself if you want to risk letting fucking Vassar put one on yours.”

  “We aren’t anywhere close to that,” I whisper, a new sort of tension building in the pit of my stomach.

  “You sure about that?” Greg looks down at his hand, rubbing his thumb over his wedding band. “Because the way I see it, if Vassar is actually into you for you, every minute you spend with the guy is a threat to the kind of life you’ve been promising yourself since you were old enough to recognize how bad you needed to break free of mine. Nat, what if you fall in love with this guy? What then?”

  I open my mouth to protest, to tell him it’ll never happen. That I’m smarter than that. But I can’t.

  Chapter 18

  Vaughn

  I don’t know what to expect when I get to practice that afternoon. Pulling into the cold gray lot, I sit in the car with the heat blasting for ten minutes, one fucked-up scenario after another running through my mind. Will I even make it into the locker room or will Coach have someone waiting for me on the other side of the doors, ready to pull me into a meeting to tell me I’m done?

  The text from Natalie this morning said I didn’t need to worry. But it’s easier for her to trust Baxter than it is for me. Either way, I need to get my ass into that building and face the future.

  Hefting my bag over my shoulder, I walk through the player doors and nearly shit myself seeing Coaches Adkins, Mateo and Channing huddled together at the foot of the stairs. Each wearing an expression darker than the next.

  My gut turns to lead, but if this is how it’s going down, then so be it. It fucking sucks, but I can’t find it in my heart to regret what happened. Maybe that’ll come after they walk me out of here. Or when I’m hearing the score from the next game, but I’m not playing.

  My eyes are glued to the unhappy trio, so I don’t notice Popov until he’s beside me, mumbling something about this being very, very bad around some heavy sighs laced with an Eastern European accent.

  Shit. He’s already heard.

  But if so, what’s he doing walking with the condemned man?

  O’Brian ducks out of the locker ro
om and jogs over. “You hear about Whitney?”

  Our third-string forward was fine after last night’s game. He’s a good kid, kind of quiet. “What happened?”

  “Started feeling off after the game, ended up in the ER this morning getting his appendix out.”

  I look around the lobby, and now I see it. Everyone’s noses buried in their phones. Worry etching their brows.

  “Oh shit.”

  “Tell me about it. He ought to be out of surgery pretty soon, but we’re all waiting to hear.”

  Just then Adkins breaks away from the group, disappearing down the hall where the assistant coaches’ offices are located. Mateo blows a whistle to get everyone’s attention. “Sean Whitney is out of surgery and doing well. More updates as available, but for now everyone get your ass ready for practice.”

  Popov grins and slaps me on the back while rubbing the top of O’Brian’s head. “Good news. He be back on ice in three days.”

  We nod, because why not? Ericsson did it in ‘09. And while most players take a little longer than that, why not hope for the best? Which is pretty fucking ironic thinking, considering my attitude walking in here today.

  Heading into the locker room, I find Baxter already dressed, dripping sweat after some drills. “Got a minute?”

  He gulps down half a bottle of water and tells Rux he’ll catch up with him in a few. “What do you want?”

  Natalie. And to keep playing through the end of the season.

  And if he’s asking, I want to be first line and he can be third. But mostly I want to make sure this guy isn’t going to cause problems over what happened last night. “You need another swing at me or are we good?”

  He huffs out a short laugh, looking away before meeting me with a smile that’s just a little too cocky for my taste. “We’re good. And the only thing I need is for you to kick ass in every game we’ve got. When your contract comes up, I want Oregon to make an offer that’ll get you on a plane that day.”

  Away from his sister.

  Looks like Baxter found the incentive he needed to make it work with me for the rest of the season.

  Natalie has evening appointments at the clinic and a late ice time with her team, so it’s after ten by the time I pick her up at the rink. I’m not nuts about a six-day road trip after this shit with her brother, but it’s not like I can call in sick.

  She climbs in the passenger seat and I take her bags and swing them into the back. I want to pull her into me. Kiss the shit out of her and soak up the feel of her against me for a few minutes, but blocking traffic to make out isn’t exactly keeping a low profile.

  “How’s Sean?” she asks, as I merge into traffic.

  “O’Brian and I stopped over with some of the other guys to see him this afternoon. He’s doing good after the surgery, but you can see the worry.” He doesn’t have the endorsements yet. The savings. “Doesn’t matter that the numbers and the doctors are all on his side, he’s freaked out. Getting back on the ice is the only thing that can fix it.”

  We’re quiet through most of the ride, and I can’t help but feel like something’s off. Like somehow Baxter is sitting between us. I don’t want him anywhere near this thing with Natalie and me, so I bring us back to where we ought to be, asking about work and practice.

  She tells me about the game coming up for her girls. There’s a longstanding rivalry between the teams and the other coach sounds like a total dick.

  “Damn, I’d love to see that game.”

  Natalie laughs quietly beside me. “Yeah, I bet.”

  I shoot her a look, but she turns to her window. “I’m fucking serious. I’d love to see your team in action. See how you’re shaping these girls’ game play. In fact, I’m going to.”

  “Pretty sure you’ve got a date with the Predators in Nashville that night.”

  “You guys record the games?” Now I’ve got her attention.

  “Some,” she says hesitantly. “I try to get parents or siblings to sign up, but it doesn’t always pan out.”

  “Don’t worry about this one. I’ll set it up. Then you’ll have some tape to watch with the girls and I’ll get to see my girl in action.” When she stares at me with a look that I think is happy but almost seems sad, I reach across the console and take her hand. “When I want something, I find a way to make it happen. Just wait and see.”

  Okay, there’s definitely something up with that look. Even moving into the more residential area near my neighborhood where there aren’t so many lights, I can see it.

  “What? You don’t believe I’ll watch?” I’m going to watch the shit out of her game. Hell, maybe I’ll hire someone for all of them.

  “No, I believe you.”

  That’s good, right? So why have I suddenly got the fucked-up sense that it’s a bad thing?

  Natalie

  Vaughn can tell something’s off with me. It’s in the way he’s watching me as I pretend to watch highlights in the living room he wouldn’t decorate because he didn’t want to get attached to it. It’s in the way he holds me when we go to bed—tight, like he wants to hold me forever.

  It’s in that last questioning look before he kisses me goodbye the next morning. But all I can hear is my brother’s warnings still in my head.

  God, I don’t want to let him go.

  I don’t want Greg to be right. I don’t want him to take anything else I love away from me.

  But even as I think it, I know that’s not fair. Greg isn’t about to take anything from me. All he’s doing is asking me to think about what I want and whether what I’m doing is going to get in the way of it.

  Sitting on the edge of the step down to my living room, I send the video call I’ve been avoiding making all day.

  I’m about to hang up when Julia’s sunny face fills the screen. “Natalie! How’s the pregame going?”

  She’s in LA for a few interviews this week and, based on the mirror and lights behind her, I think she might be in make-up getting ready to shoot. “Oh no, are you at the studio? This can totally wait,” I rush, suddenly wanting to avoid this call.

  She waves me off. “Don’t worry. I’ve got time. My player is running late. What’s going on?”

  Staring at the screen, I tell myself I’ve already called her. Greg told me to ask, and if something in his warning hadn’t resonated just a little too clearly I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But here I am the next day, still hating the way his words made me feel.

  Hating that he might be right.

  I take a deep breath and start. “This may not be any of my business, so you can totally tell me to buzz off and I won’t have my feelings hurt.”

  Julia pulls a face. “Geez, what do you want to know?” She leans closer to the screen, her eyes going cartoon huge. “Is it something about sex? Oh man, your brother would lose his shit. I mean I won’t tell him, but still—” Her head tips back and, eyes closed, she lets out a delighted laugh.

  “I kind of hate to disappoint you, but it’s nothing like that.”

  Popping her bottom lip, she shrugs one shoulder. “Okay, let’s have it then.”

  “Greg said something yesterday about you guys and I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  And that’s the problem. “Jules, you and Greg always seem happy. Like, deliriously so. And Greg, oh my God. It’s actually pretty embarrassing how happy he is. But… he said I should ask you about how things started with you guys. How serious you meant to get about him. And how maybe he broke some of your rules.” I can feel the heat pushing into my cheeks, because this feels like none of my business, but now that I’ve started, I can’t hold the words back. “I know you love him. I do. But I guess what I’m asking is if you have any regrets?”

  Suddenly all silliness is gone and Julia’s waving someone I can’t see off as she moves to a more remote corner of the studio. “Nat, honey, where’s this coming from? Is this about that guy from out of town?”

  Of course she remem
bers. I smile, but the way hers disappears tells me she can see right through me. “Let’s say this is about me, okay?”

  Her brown eyes are filled with questions, but she doesn’t voice them. “Greg wasn’t part of my plan. In fact, my playbook was pretty specific about avoiding guys like him altogether.”

  “Pretty-boy players with egos so big they need a U-Haul to help drag them around?” I tease, even though nothing feels funny to me right now.

  She snorts, shaking her head with a smile. “Actually, it was more geared toward pro athletes. But yeah, even back in high school I had your brother’s number. Other girls threw themselves at him left and right, but to me? Guys like him just seemed like a risk I wasn’t interested in taking.”

  “I can imagine.” Being a sports reporter—a woman in a predominantly men’s field, she faced scrutiny her male peers seldom did. “So what happened? What made you give him a chance?”

  Her eyes take on this faraway look and she bites her lip. “It wasn’t really a chance per se. It was just supposed to be one kiss. But that kiss…”

  Geez, I can see the goosebumps come up on her arms through my phone. “And that kiss was it? You were gone for him?”

  “Not even close. There’s a whole story there, but suffice it to say… despite my best efforts to prevent it, your brother worked his way into every part of my heart. And once he was there—” she flashes me one of those eternally satisfied smiles and sighs, “—there was no getting him out.”

  I nod, not trusting my voice to carry past the lump in my throat. She’s happy. No question. But she’s also just confirmed my brother’s warning. Julia had no intention of letting him into her life and now they’re bound together until death do they part.

  Chapter 19

  Vaughn

  “Hey beautiful, sorry I missed you.” I yawn into her voicemail, scrubbing a hand over my face as I fight the gravitational pull of my bed after going into overtime against the Knights. “Gotta hit it tonight but give me a call when you get a chance tomorrow.”